“My…my what?” I love the way she squirms when she’s turned on. I can feel her getting wet where our hands are joined between her legs.
“Your tongue.”
“You want my tongue on you?”
She bites her lip before releasing it to say, “Yes. A lot.”
“A lot of my tongue?”
She reveals that genuine Winter smile I love so much. “A lot of your tongue, and I want that a lot. A lot, a lot.”
I ghost her mouth with mine. “Okay,” I whisper.
I slide down her body until my face is between her legs. I stroke one finger inside her folds and she arches to meet my tongue.
I feel two hands grip my head. “Oh God, Hunt. Don’t stop.”
I don’t. She tastes like a dewy morning in New Orleans—hot and sweet, and the taste drugs me. I’m so hard I honest to God could come without being touched.
“So good.” She bucks up into my face.
I couldn’t agree more.
I taste every ounce of Winter’s arousal, and I keep going, determined to tip her over the edge into bliss.
I’ve only kissed Winter like this once before, and we were just a couple weeks away from her moving to New York City. But I memorized the moment, and I learned what she liked and how she liked it.
I slip two fingers inside her as I kiss her most sensitive spot.
“Hunt…”
She draws out my name, the southern accent she’s worked so hard to destroy coming back strong. I smile into her wet heat and keep kissing her until I feel her spasm around my fingers.
She calls out my name as she comes, and I keep my mouth on her throughout her orgasm.
When I feel her fully relax, I crawl up her body and lie next to her, my head sharing her pillow.
“Good morning.”
She turns her head to face me. “Do you plan to wake me up that way again sometime? Because I wouldn’t complain at all.”
Neither would I.
* * *
I don’t want to go on this road trip.
I never enjoy staying in hotels and flying back and forth at all hours of the night from one city to another. But that’s not why I’m decidedly against this particular trip.
No, I’m actually looking forward to the games. Now that I’m coming out of my slump, I’ve been enjoying hockey again.
What I’m dreading is leaving Winter for ten days.
She kisses me goodbye in the kitchen and jokes that this is why I hired her—so I’d have someone to pet sit Theo without having to worry about kenneling him or scheduling someone to come over. But her eyes tell a different story. She’s going to miss me, too.
“I’ll text you.” I give her one last kiss before turning for the door. “Have a good week.”
“You too. Kick some ass in your games. The girls and I are going to have a house party when you play New York.” She pumps a cute, little fist in the air. “Go, Fire!”
